


Discomfort in Uniform

by OtakuAngelD



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, Kink Meme, M/M, Uniform Fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 20:53:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1278487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtakuAngelD/pseuds/OtakuAngelD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor wishes to try something new with Steve. Steve isn't too sure about this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discomfort in Uniform

**Author's Note:**

> Any/Any but would love to see either Loki or Steve in the sub role.
> 
> For the Avengers Kink Meme. The prompt was:
> 
> The Dom has been wanting to try a certain kink for a while but every time he brings it up, the sub gets really uncomfortable. It's not something he wants to try at all. One day the Dom spends a long time getting the sub into a very pliable headspace and makes the suggestion to try it, reminding the sub he can safeword but knowing he won't. The sub agrees and even though he hates it, he doesn't use his safeword. Afterward they both fool themselves into thinking it's okay because the safeword wasn't used.
> 
> Bonus if what happened somehow gets out and someone who's not on too good of terms with the sub defends him(so like Clint if the sub is Loki).
> 
> completely open to any reason why the sub chooses not to safeword.

If there was one thing in the world that Steve Rogers would never do, it was desecrate the uniform. He knew that people loved a man in uniform. There were all sorts of sexy kinks involved with it, something he had only found out thanks to Clint's continual help in trying to "get the old man with the times." It was something he didn't really understand. A military uniform was a symbol of belonging and of pride. The metals were marks of valorous deeds and each stripe, each rope had a reason. So what if it was perfectly tailored to make a man look good. You were supposed to look your best in your dress blues; you were representing your country. And that was why, regardless of how much he insisted, how good it might look on him or off of him, Steve just wouldn't do it. Even when it wasn't his country's uniform.

He supposed he didn't blame Thor one bit. The Asgardian didn't know about Earth's past the way he did. He hadn't been there and done that and sunk to the bottom of the Arctic Ocean for some 70 years. He didn't know. How could he? How could his lover know that the sudden addition of a slick black uniform with silver trimming in his closet would send Steve into a conniption fit.

Thor had always been good to him. He liked to shower gifts upon him. A price lavishing his affections on a stalwart and strong warrior. Even if, eventually, he was neither of those, pinned under the god, squirming and groaning. Loving it because he could never over power Thor. Even with the Supersoldier Serum flooding through his veins, when the larger blond held him down, there was nothing to do but obey. And he was a good soldier. He liked to obey orders. Something Thor seemed to find most interesting. The Viking had grown to enjoy telling the Captain of America what to do and when to do it and when to stop. It was always pleasurable to be ordered by him. Ignoring his 1940s upbringing to be brought to the highest pleasure imaginable by the god and his strong hands.

So when the god appeared one day and said, "Steven Rogers, I have something for you to wear this evening." He had thought nothing of it. He had done it before for Thor. The god had even brought him back Asgardian armor to wear once. It had felt nice on, like he was being protected by not only his shield but by Thor. The heavy plate like those powerful corded arms, embracing him. It had felt even nicer off, enjoying the time Thor took to undo straps and buckles, leaving fur and leather to assault his senses while he touched and stoked and denied him completion until he begged.

He anticipated such strange gifts now. So when he went to the room where Thor stayed when he was on Earth and saw what awaited him, his heart froze. Black. Silver. Perfect cut. The Totenkopf sitting out like a sore thumb on the hat. The Swastika on the band around the arm like one of Clint's arrows to the heart. A uniform. A Nazi uniform. The uniform of the very men he had fought and killed so long ago. Terrible, horrible men who had done unspeakable acts. Even seeing the clothing brought him into true danger of a flashback. He could already hear the sounds of gunfire and the rapid angry German. He could already smell the stench of blood long soaked into woolen uniforms. He could see his fellow soldiers, huddled close for warmth. He stumbled backwards and right into that broad muscled chest of the man who had brought him to the brink of those painful memories.

"What is wrong, Steven? Is it not to your liking. I have seen much of this world's clothing preferences and for a warrior of your virtue, such things would look good upon you."

He just looked up as his fellow blond, pale and shaking. "I can't...Not that. That..." He felt like he was going to be sick.

Thor just frowned a little and tugged Steve closer to him, leaning down to kiss him firmly. "Then tonight you will not don it for me." Uniform forgotten for the moment, Steve allowed himself to be swept away in Thor's strict but loving care.

\-------

It was one of his favorites now and one Thor liked doing to him often. Planting his wrists above his head with an order of "Do not move them, Steven, or I will be cross with you." Stripped bare for the man to see. Stretched before Thor, a pale golden meal, ready to be devoured. Thor with a little tray of ice cubes, sliding them one by one over his heated flesh, watching them slowly melt. Watching as the chill tightened nipples as they were circled and caused little shivers down that powerful torso. Hot, almost too hot tongue following to collect the water left behind. Sometimes, just sometimes, the smallest jolt of electricity coursing through him causing him to squirm and come slowly undone before the blond god. Thor shocking him always went straight to his cock.

He would continue until the tray was gone, until he was burning hot despite the frigid trails Thor had left. Tingling from little jolts of electric pleasure and desperate for more. More of anything. Please. Please Sir...Master...God...I'll do anything for more. Then a strong hand would take him and stroke. Stoke until he begged to be fucked. Would do anything, anything at all to feel that thick cock throbbing deep inside of him.

"Anything..."

The hand stopped, fingers, still chilly from ice lightly caressing his anus the other holding his hips down firmly so he couldn't move and impale himself. "Then, Steven, you must wear it. Let me watch you put it on so I might see you in the garment I chose for you. If you truly do not wish for it, you need only call out for Donor." The teasing finger never stopping, nudging his hole, promising to make him so sweetly full if he just...obeyed.

He nodded slowly. As long as he could stop...

He felt physically ill. Even with his focus on the god laid out upon the bed, watching him like a hawk. Watching him with that look of lust and possession and love that Steve had come to adore. He bit his lip and swallowed down the rising bile as he picked up the uniform and ran his hands over the black material. Wool, like his own had been... But so much better made. The SS had known how to make a uniform.

Thor's voice was like a whip crack in his ear, deep and commanding like a king. A god. "Steven, why are you hesitating? Does it not suit your tastes? I wish for you to continue." It was not a wish. It was a command. Continue.

Shirt first. That was easy. Shirts were the same no matter where you were. Pants next. Black trousers sliding over hips making him aware he had lost his erection at some point. Thor had not supplied the outfit with underpants. Thor liked him without under things. Easier access or so he was told. They fit too well. Snug in all the right places, emphasizing his ass in a way that wasn't quite right. So far, so good. Tie. Fumbling fingers working on a proper knot, even knowing that Thor would be undoing it and using it to tie his wrists with it later.

The jacket. With it's metals and it's emblems. Fingers touched the fabric, shaking. It was a jacket. Just a jacket. He could do this. Thor was watching. Thor seemed to have leaned forward, staring with those intense eyes. Eyes as blue as he own. Just ignore the emblems...Just close your eyes. Just...get it over with. Numb fingers doing up each button until the uniform was firmly in place. Then the hat.

He heard a sound from the bed and could feel Thor's approach. Large hand handing him the headgear to put on. He placed it over short blond locks and remained with his eyes closed. He felt strong arms ensnare him and turn him. "Steven, open your eyes a look. You are truly a marvel."

Eyes cracked open and he looked at his reflection in the mirror. Blond hair, blue eyes. Perfect solder. Superior human being. Hitler's wet dream made real. He saw himself in the mirror and he could hear the cries of "seig heil" in his mind and he felt like he was going to throw up. He was betraying them. All of them. He was betraying his unit and Bucky and Howard. He was betraying the President and the United States and the Allies. He was betraying the millions upon millions that had been killed. He wanted it off. He wanted it off right now. He shook so hard he felt he was going to break apart in those supporting arms, even as a mouth descended upon his neck to nuzzle him softly.

"I was correct about this. You are truly magnificent in this attire. I believe I shall leave it mostly upon you so that I might have a feast for my eyes."

He felt himself held within that normally heady embrace and stared up at the Viking. He opened his mouth but no words came. He couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Frozen by those ancient memories that were still as fresh as those from just yesterday. Couldn't even react when a hand delved into those pants to bring him to hardness again. Mouth nibbling and biting at his neck, body pressed hard behind him, and getting harder.

He saw his face in the mirror, flushed and needy, but also haunted. He saw...a Nazi. He saw himself. Hands pushed down his trousers to bare his ass and he was pushed down upon the floor. Fingers entered into him and he closed his eyes to shut out the sights.

They twisted hard, painfully. "No. You will watch yourself, Steven. You will watch yourself and see how beautiful you are to me." He opened his eyes and saw only shame. Shame and bitter defeat. He wished that Thor would turn him away from the mirror so he didn't have to look anymore, didn't have to see. But Thor would have none of that. There was just no going against the god. Not even when he was lifted and placed upon the larger man's lap, forced to watch himself bounce upon that hardened member. Watching that slick, horrible uniform move as he moved. He couldn't look away. He couldn't stop it. He was trapped. Helpless. Sick to his stomach. Humiliated in a way he couldn't begin to describe. He wanted to cry.

He did. Tears slowly falling down his face as the man below him sought completion. He knew because he saw it. Because Thor wouldn't let him look anywhere else. Because he couldn't take it off. Because he...he had no choice. No option. He just hoped it would be over quickly. Only it wasn't. Godly stamina and Super Soldier serum meant the pounding went on and on until his whole body felt numb. Only then, only then did he feel the hot spurting of Thor within him. He felt even more biting shame that he had come as well.

He only slumped when the man pulled out, making sure all the seed within was out before he pulled those pants back on and turned him around finally to kiss him hard, possessively. "I will rest, Steven. You may remove it now and then you will join me back here in my chambers." It was not a request. He nodded numbly. That was all he needed to run to the restroom and pull it all off and wretch over the toilet.

He almost didn't return to Thor's bed. He wanted a shower. He wanted to scrub off the dirty feeling until his skin was raw and red. He wanted to burn the uniform. He wanted to have never met the demanding God of Thunder. Mostly, Steve wanted to pretend it had never happened. Especially when he realized the horrible truth. He had never said it. He had never said the word.

That had caused him to throw up again at the thought that he had actually, deep down wanted this. He had wanted to wear that disgusting uniform and all it stood for. He had wanted to be fucked by Thor in it. He had to have wanted it...he hadn't said the word.

It was a blow as mighty as Thor's hammer to his patriotic heart and Steve had returned to the man's bed without a word, curling up upon himself and trying not to flinch when arms wrapped about him and that strong chest pressed against his back. Deep voice a soft caress in his ear. "Even beautiful without. But Steven, you must wear it for me again. It brought me much pleasure to see."

He only shivered and closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. Even if now, he knew it would elude him for fear of what he might dream of. Hoping, praying that Thor would move on to other things now that this curiosity was sated.

\----

It seemed so come morning, when he came to breakfast, jovial and boisterous as always, talking to the Man of Iron and the Tiny Hawk and the Beautiful Valkyrie. He could almost pretend it hadn't happened. Almost. When Thor announced, "Today, Steven, you must wear that garment out so all can see you!" He turned a shade of pale that bordered on milk in tone.

"Thor, I really don't think..."

"Nonsense, Steven, it is a good look for you."

He stomach churned and he put down his Ovaltine because he couldn't drink another drop without throwing it up. "Excuse me..." He stood from the table even as Tony was questioning Thor as to what on Earth he was talking about. Feeling even deeper shame when Thor let Tony know that he had purchased a Midgard warrior's uniform, Anthony Stark, and it is very fetching on the Captain of America. He couldn't run fast enough out of the room.

Tony was the one to find him in the gym. Huddled in a corner, head in his hands. His usual inane banter and barbed insults just making him hurt more. "So, Old Man, Fabio says he got you a uniform. I didn't know you did the naughty nurse thing. You probably look real hot in it. All that leg."

He only curled more and wished that he had stayed frozen, or that Tony was more like Howard. Or both. Both worked. "Not a nurse then. He did say warrior. Uniform...Uniform... Camo...No. Dress blues? No? Sexy Iron Man...oh wait that's me." He paused and almost as a joke, "Nazi?" Steve just curled up tighter. "Oh....Oh shit... You're kidding right? You aren't. Damn. I mean you can't blame him, it's nice and all but seriously..."

He wanted to die. Even more after Tony suddenly stood and left, this look on his face.

\-----

He dreaded it. Dreaded going out now. Because Thor had already decided. He expected to see it, black and perfect, on his bed. Instead, the Mighty Thor sat, looking actually sheepish. Instead of the black uniform, Steve recognized the new US Army issue dress uniform. He recognized the medals. They were all his. But where was...

Thor stood and crossed to loom over him, long hair falling into his face. Blue eyes narrowed a little angrily. "The Man of Iron has told me of your Midgardian history. Why did you not tell me of this, Steven?" He was a little shocked, honestly. Not that Thor was angry at him for not telling him all about the wonders of the Third Reich, but that Tony Stark, of all people, had done something about it.

He swallowed and attempted to say something. Anything. "Why did you not say the word if it was this painful for you?" he couldn't answer that. He just hung his head a little in shame. He supposed he had no real reason why. He had just been unable to at the time. Too broken and humiliated and guilty to remember that he had the real power in this arrangement. His word, they stopped. So, it was his fault and he had to own up to it.

"It's not something...I like to discuss." That wasn't even the half of it, but he didn't want this to be Thor's indoctrination into the joys of Captain America's PTSD. "I apologize."

A hand cupped his face and forced him to look up. He hadn't realized he was looking down until that happened. "No, Steven, the fault is mine. I should have seen your feelings. I was simply too astounded by you and how you appeared to notice. I will fix that. I have been rid of the offending garment and gotten you this new one. Anthony Stark has said that this would be more to both our liking."

Steve felt the man slip the uniform into his hands. "Please, Steven, will you wear this one for me?"

He looked down at the blue fabric and the Stars and Stripes and the Purple Heart and the President's 100 and his huge bouquet of awards and smiled a little. He leaned into the touch and then shifted up a little to press a small kiss onto Thor's lips. "Help me put it on. I'll teach you all the regulations." This...This was one he would wear, happily.


End file.
